Roleplay

Clara and Sean

Clara wasn't a sports person. In fact, she thought the games were rather...pointless and never understood the hype around them. Clara could never get through a full game of quidditch unless it was out of sheer stubbornness. So what was she doing in a quidditch supply store? Clara was being prepared. So what if Sean's birthday was months away? Clara needed to get ready, make sure she was on top of it. She'd already gotten Alfie his present and the Christmas present. Plus, Clara had to take into consideration that Sean was all the way in America, even though shipping wasn't that huge an issue when magic was involved. Then again, should Clara send him something? She was walking through the shop, eyes running over the supplies, beginning to realise all of this was slightly over her head.

Sean had seen Clara walk into the shop, and had immadiately put two and two together. She was already buying him a gift. Chuckling to himself, he'd followed her into the shop, creeping up behind her until he was close enough to give her a wet willy. "Hey, loser, fancy seeing you here!"

Clara jerked away when she felt something wet slide into her ear, her hand going up to slap the hand, almost ready to scream bloody murder and use her fist. Not that she'd ever punched someone before and would probably break her own knuckles in the meantime. Until she saw Sean. She paused, looking up at him (was he always this tall?), before her shoulders sagged. "You idiot, you scared the life out of me," she said, scowling up at him.

"I nearly thought you were some creep," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Clara was actually feeling as if she was caught out, a deer in the spotlight, because she was only in here for Sean's present and Sean was here. How could she get it without him knowing now? Oh, the luck. She huffed, dropping her arms, before lightly hitting him on the arm with the back of her hand, "you're such a dick, you know that right?"

"Just because I have one doesn't mean I am one. I think you're getting yourself confused," he teases. "So, Clarie, what are you doing in here?" The glint in his eye, the way he looks at her - he's just begging her to lie.

"I've decided I've been giving sports too much of a hard time," she lied without blinking. "I'm trying to understand it." Clara decided to ignore the nickname, knowing her complaints wouldn't deter him in the slightest.